


The Boring Day

by AZGirl



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Friendship, Fête des Mousquetaires Challenge, Gen, Humor (I hope), No Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZGirl/pseuds/AZGirl
Summary: D'Artagnan didn't want to cause trouble for the Musketeers, but he needed to know more and hopefully understand the odd behavior of everyone around him.





	The Boring Day

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn’t planned on writing something for the September Fete des Mousquetaires, but after finishing this story, I realized it fit the ‘confusion’ prompt rather well.   
> .

**ooooooo**

“ _Bored of being bored because being bored is boring.”_

_~~~~~~~ Unknown_

**ooooooo**

When d’Artagnan entered the garrison one sunny morning, he surveyed the various groups of Musketeers sitting or standing around the courtyard as he looked for his friends. Spotting them at their usual table, he immediately headed over to them eager to start the day. They had just returned from a successful mission, and Athos had promised a full day of training to help him continue to hone his skills in hopes that he would gain his commission that much quicker. 

As he walked, he noticed how odd all of the Musketeers were acting. For some reason, they seemed discomfited by his presence. When he would greet them, they would look nervous and worried for a moment before they quickly glanced around them and returned the greeting with as few movements as possible. D’Artagnan thought it very strange, but promptly dismissed it in his eagerness to be with his friends and get started on training for the day. 

When he stepped up to them, Aramis, Porthos, and Athos were quietly sitting at the table, hardly moving, basically doing nothing. 

“Good morning, my friends! Are you ready to start the day?”   

The three men startled slightly when he spoke, apparently not having seen him approach, and looked around as if making sure no one had seen their reaction. Apparently satisfied that no one had observed them, Athos grabbed his sleeve and pulled him down to sit next to him on the bench across from Aramis who was sitting next to Porthos. 

D’Artagnan resisted at first, not understanding what was going on, but with a piercing glare from Porthos, he let himself sink down next to Athos. 

As he sat, Aramis started speaking in a low voice. “D’Artagnan, come. Sit with us. You can’t be…” His friend glanced around seeming almost afraid he’d get in trouble for speaking. “You— Just… just sit with us, alright?” 

“But what—?” he began at a normal volume for speaking, but was cut off.  

“Quiet, you fool!” Porthos said. “ _They_ could be watching.” 

“Who?” d’Artagnan asked as he got half out of his seat and started searching for the potential threat to his friends. 

Athos put a hand on his shoulder and forced him back into his seat. 

Getting impatient for answers and losing his temper, thinking he was being pranked, he loudly began to ask, “What the devil is going—?” 

His friends immediately moved to quiet him, Aramis going so far as to reach across the table to put a hand over his mouth, though the older man looked as if hell would rain down on him for daring to move like that. 

With the nervous glances he was getting, not only from his friends but from the other Musketeers in the immediate vicinity, d’Artagnan held up his hands in surrender and Aramis removed his hand. 

“Quiet,” Athos said. “Please.” 

His friend started to reach for the cup of wine before him, but stilled his hand as if such an action was not only pointless, but not allowed at all. The twitching fingers and longing look Athos gave the cup and the full bottle next to it was just one more bizarre incident to add to the tally so far for the day – and he had barely been at the garrison for a handful of minutes. 

Porthos glanced around after a minute of quiet expectation – for what, d’Artagnan had no clue – then whispered, “Surely we can tell him. Surely _They_ wouldn’t mind. How’s he supposed to know if we don’t tell him what _They_ want?” 

Making sure to keep his voice low, d’Artagnan asked, “‘They’? They who?” 

Trying to be helpful, and knowing Athos wanted some wine, he reached for the bottle on the table. 

In a panicked yet quiet voice, Aramis said, “No, no, no. Don’t do that! It’s not allowed!” 

D’Artagnan snatched his hand away from the bottle as if he’d been burned, and placed his hands back on the table in from of him, not understanding one bit of what was going on. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Athos slump slightly in disappointment. He wondered just how long Athos had desired more wine yet not pouring any more for himself. Had Captain Tréville ordered Athos not to drink at the garrison any longer? 

Athos sighed again and then carefully looked all around the area, including all the way up into the sky for some reason. Then he murmured a single, pleading word. “Aramis.” 

Aramis, the most uneasy of the three older men since the moment he had approached them, also briefly glanced around, seeming immensely relieved after doing so. 

“Today,” Aramis began explaining, “ _They_ said we have to just sit here. Not doing anything. No training. No missions. No…anything.” 

“I don’t understand. Who is ‘ _They’_?” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Porthos said. “Now that you’re here, you have to do what they say. It’s expected of everyone here.” 

D’Artagnan didn’t want to cause trouble for the Musketeers, but he needed to know more and hopefully understand the odd behavior of everyone around him. 

“Just sit here?”  

Aramis nodded. 

“Doing nothing?” 

Porthos nodded. 

“All day?” 

Athos grimaced then nodded. 

“What if I have to, you know?” he asked, vaguely gesturing towards the latrine. 

Porthos turned very slightly towards Aramis, and said, “Surely, that would be alright with _Them_ , wouldn’t it. _They_ never explicitly said we couldn’t, and can’t expect us to suffer all day holding it, can _They_?” 

“Don’t be so sure. You know what _They_ are like.” Aramis started to run a hand through his hair, but aborted the motion and quickly placed the hand back on the table, his eyes darting around and up as if to check if someone was watching. “If we don’t sit here doing absolutely nothing today, _They_ might retaliate.” 

“Retaliate? Who? How?” d’Artagnan asked, finally starting to let himself believe that his friends weren’t playing a joke on him, their actions, their expressions were just too genuine, too careful and worried for him not to believe. 

“ _Them_ ,” Porthos said, aborting a shrug before he could complete the movement. “ _Them_. _They_. Don’t really know. Not sure I wanna know.” 

“If they see us doing something today, see us not following their instructions, _They_ might send us on a mission where we’re – I don’t know – attacked along the way. You and I could be injured, badly enough to be left behind while Porthos and Athos continue on without us. I would probably find myself in life-threatening trouble just after you have to leave to catch up to them with important information.” 

“Stop giving _Them_ ideas,” Athos murmured. 

“Angst. Injury,” Aramis continued as if he hadn’t heard. “It’s what they like best. If there was a follow-up, _They_ would give me a fever from my additional injuries, which would end up driving a major rift in our friendships.” 

Porthos nodded slightly, and added, “Wouldn’t surprise me. _They_ can be vicious that way.” 

Athos groaned and closed his eyes briefly. “Now you’ve done it.” 

D’Artagnan glanced at Athos, but didn’t ask the older man to explain his recent words. 

“So what would’ve happened if I’d actually filled up Athos’s cup of wine?” d’Artagnan asked, wanting to clarify the boundaries. 

Athos grumbled something that sounded like the word ‘ideas’ before he sighed and replied, “I would probably end up getting drunk enough to say something absolutely horrible to you, which would set off a whole chain of painful events.” 

“Like what?” d’Artagnan was genuinely curious since the concept seemed so ridiculous to him, though he had no doubts that his friends believed in whoever ‘ _They_ ’ were. 

“I shudder to think,” Athos replied, surreptitiously glancing around. 

“If you know what’s good for ya, you’d stop asking questions like that,” Porthos said. “It’s best not to give _Them_ any more ideas.” 

“Alright,” d’Artagnan said, not wholly convinced, but unwilling to be the cause of any retribution against his friends or the rest of the Musketeers. “So, just to confirm... We are to sit here all day.”—his friends nodded in sync with each other—“doing nothing”—the three men nodded in unison once again—“all day?” 

For a third time, his three friends nodded, though this time Athos was slightly out of sync with the others, for which Aramis and Porthos both glared at him. Athos murmured an apology, briefly looking upwards, as if seeking something d’Artagnan dared not to guess about. 

Aramis started to reach across the table, but stopped himself before he moved too much. “Just, please. Do it. We can’t risk the consequences of _Them_ finding out we didn’t do what _They_ wanted.” He sighed. “I’m not even sure we haven’t already gone against _Them_ by talking so much.” 

“He had to know, Aramis,” Porthos said. “Don’t worry so. _They_ won’t punish us for getting d’Artagnan to do exactly what _They_ want.” 

“ _They_ better not,” Athos said, glancing at the wine bottle once again. “At least not this time.” 

The four of them sat at their usual table barely moving, rarely speaking the entire day. The rest of the Musketeers in the background followed their lead and did likewise – nothing. Presumably, Captain Tréville, who d’Artagnan had not yet seen and assumed was in his office, was also doing absolutely nothing. 

ooooooo 

Around midday, d’Artagnan began to nod off due to the utter boredom he was experiencing, but someone kicked his foot, startling him to wakefulness. 

“No sleeping,” Aramis said. 

Porthos murmured, “ _They_ never said we couldn’t.” 

“And _They_ never said we could. It’s too risky.” 

ooooooo 

After that, absolutely nothing else happened the entire day. 

In d’Artagnan’s opinion, it was undeniably the most boring day that he had ever experienced in his entire life. 

Surely, whoever the mysterious ‘ _They’_ were wouldn’t want them simply sitting around doing nothing and dying of boredom like that every day. What would be the point? 

This was the first time he had experienced anything like this since he had arrived on the scene, and he hoped it wouldn’t happened again too soon – or ever again. He didn’t think he could handle the utter boredom, and preferred back-breaking farm work over doing nothing for an entire day, especially when the weather was sunny and temperate like it was that day. 

ooooooo 

At sundown, his friends fully relaxed and actually started to move around. 

Athos immediately reached for the bottle of wine, but instead of pouring some into his cup, he drank straight from the bottle. 

Porthos stood and stretched before heading towards the mess. 

Aramis pulled out his crucifix and said a quick prayer of thanks. 

Once again, d’Artagnan didn’t understand what was going on, so he asked if it, whatever _it_ was, was over. 

“Oh. Uh, no. It’s not,” Aramis replied as he stood. “We get a ten minute break at sundown and then it’s back into positions until sunrise.” 

Aramis stretched and made a shooing motion towards him. Then, he reminded Athos to move around a bit before time was up, and followed after Porthos. 

D’Artagnan quickly stood and rushed towards the latrine, hoping to have enough time left afterwards to get something to eat before having to sit back down again. He wondered if _They_ would get angry if the four of them switched places, just to have someone different to look at for the rest of the night. Forcing himself to keep walking despite the pins and needles stabbing at his legs from all of the inactivity, he decided he wouldn’t even try. He didn’t want to risk the wrath of the mysterious _They_. 

Their lives as Musketeers were dangerous enough as it was. 

ooooooo 

_The end._

**ooooooo**

**Author's Note:**

> .  
>  The They/Them in this story refers to me and Celticgal1041, though it could very easily reference any fanfic writer, right? ;o) We got to talking about how boring it would be to read a story where the guys did nothing but sit around all day, and I’d replied that it depended on how it was written. This idea popped into my head the next morning. Hopefully, it wasn’t too boring. :o)
> 
> The mission and follow-up that Aramis mentions in the story are references to Celticgal1041’s story "Mistaken Identity" and its sequel (which is currently being written).
> 
> Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for proofing; remaining mistakes are my fault. 
> 
> Written for the Fête des Mousquetaires “Confusion” challenge prompt. For rules, judging, etc., please go to the forum page on fanfiction.net for The Musketeers. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
